The Ice People 45 - The Legend. Margit Sandemo

he was. He was no spirit, but nor did he belong in the present.

      He wasn’t like Marco or Rune, who were both immortal and eternally young. He was something else.

      During this swift passage of thought, Rune had managed to register that Lynx was of the fair, stout, Germanic type. He could well imagine this man as the head of a family in lederhosen and a Tyrolean hat, with a tuba in one hand and a tankard of beer in the other. But the man was so obnoxious in his ice-cold misanthropy and his unfathomable identity that Rune took a few steps backwards.

      Just as Lynx lifted his arm to catch him in his peculiar snare, Rune whispered: “Fritz!”

      He had only said it because he wanted to make it clear that he had guessed where Lynx came from. He had used that name because it was a common German name. But Lynx was so surprised that he suddenly froze. That was when Rune realized that his name really was Fritz!

      This was as far as Rune had thought when Tengel the Evil shouted, almost in panic: “Well then, for heaven’s sake grab him!”

      Lynx recovered from his surprise and lifted his arm once more.

      At this moment, the ice roared so loudly that all four had to concentrate on keeping their balance. It wasn’t the ice that moved but the mountains around them that trembled as if in an earthquake. Who had ever heard of earth tremors in Norway’s oldest mountains, among the most stable massifs in the world?

      “For heaven’s sake, DO something!” Tengel the Evil bellowed, as he always did if there was something he didn’t understand. He would always try to blame somebody else.

      But neither Lynx nor Ahriman could do anything about what was happening. Rune fell to his knees and could only hope that the glacier would crack right under him. Lynx had fallen over after several futile attempts to maintain his equilibrium and dignity, but Ahriman and Tengel the Evil were still standing, more or less.

      What on earth is this? thought Rune.

      Then the violent roaring and trembling abated.

      Everything was quiet, very quiet.

      The very next moment, out of the corner of his eye, Rune noticed something dark.

      He turned to look in that direction, and so did the other three.

      A man, all by himself, was walking towards them from the edge of the glacier. A quiet wanderer in a dark cloak.

      Up by the cliffs in the pass to the Valley of the Ice People, Marco instinctively grabbed Nataniel by the arm. His friends looked on in amazement. His handsome face expressed breathless excitement.

      Out on the ice, the wanderer had reached the four men. Rune gazed at him with furrowed brow. But Tengel the Evil snorted. He was profoundly irritated.

      “What do you want? What are you doing here? Go away immediately. We don’t want any beggars here. Go away!”

      The newcomer ignored Tengel. He turned to Rune.

      “It’s nice to meet you again, my friend!”

      Rune looked at the man: his dark, curly hair that fell down over his shoulders, the smile in his exceptionally bright eyes, not quite as yellow as those of the Ice People, his kindness ...

      Then Rune’s eyes filled with tears and he just faltered out: “And you!”

      Ahriman just stood there with his mouth open. His whole demeanour showed that the sight of this stranger made him not only extremely ill at ease but also insecure. Was the newcomer really a stranger or was he ... an acquaintance?

      Tan-ghil didn’t have any such thoughts. He was just cross because he had been disturbed in exterminating the mandrake.

      “Go away!” he screamed in falsetto. “Or I’ll conjure you into dust, you wretched tramp!”

      The newcomer turned his penetrating eyes on him. “No, you probably won’t do that, human creep!”

      Tengel the Evil started. It had been ages since anybody had spoken to him like that. Not since his walk through the grottos to the Sources of Life had he heard that expression. “Lynx!” he yelled. “Send him to the Great Abyss! Nobody speaks like that to the Ruler of the World!”

      Lynx began to raise his hand but then he dropped it. He was horrified. The air roared and thundered, and before their eyes the newcomer transformed himself into something immensely big and unfathomable.

      Far away by the cliffs, Marco dropped to his knees and put his hands to his face.

      “At last,” he whispered. “I thought I had miscalculated the time. Thank you! My sincerest thanks!”

      Chapter 2

      The scene out on the ice had left Nataniel and his friends speechless.

      They saw the newly arrived stranger changing right in front of Tengel until he was eight or ten metres tall. He was jet-black, like a winter’s night, with black, shimmering wings. It was a sight that Gabriel, Tova, Nataniel and Ian would never forget.

      After all, they had seen black angels before. But this was something so extraordinary that Gabriel had to sit down and Tova nearly passed out.

      “You knew all along what was going to happen,” Nataniel said quietly. “That’s why you waited to summon us to the meeting in the Demon’s Mountain. That’s why Tova and I had to wait for years before we could try to enter the Valley of the Ice People.”

      “Yes,” replied Marco.

      “Oh, I see!” said Tova. “Now I understand! It’s 1960 ...”

      Gabriel finished her sentence: “And he met Saga of the Ice People in 1860. The legend about Lucifer’s love. He’s only allowed to visit earth once in every century.”

      “I suppose he’s no longer on the lookout for his lost love?” Tova said bluntly.

      “No!” answered Marco, his eyes radiating relief and joy. “He stopped searching thousands of years ago. And after he met Saga, my mother, he never gave other women a thought. He told me so himself.”

      They gazed pensively at Marco. There was much they didn’t know about him and his life.

      Marco stood stock-still, with his eyes focused on the tableau out on the ice. His voice lowered as if he had almost forgotten those who stood around him. He whispered: “For the sake of all mercy, save Rune, our dearest friend. He’s suffered so much.”

      Ahriman had sneaked away with his tail between his legs. Lucifer was a complete contrast to him, and his arch enemy. Just at this moment, Ahriman didn’t feel that Tan-ghil the Evil was worth fighting for. He thought that he would rather flee than fight, because the enormous former angel of light was very angry right now. Everybody could see that.

      Lynx retreated as well. He did so behind Lucifer’s back, because then he would be able to take the route that led up towards the pass to the Valley of the Ice People.

      “Stop, you timid wretch,” shouted Tengel the Evil. “This is nothing to be afraid of. Just a spot of magic. That’s all. Illusions. I’m capable of much more, and I can teach you.”

      “No, thank you,” Ahriman shouted back. “I don’t want to fight against Lucifer.”

      “Lucifer?” Tengel repeated softly, his eyes narrowing. “But naturally, Lucifer is on my side. He belongs to the domains of evil. Come back, Lynx! He’s our man!”

      “Let him go,” said Lucifer to the gnome on the ice. “He won’t get far. I’m afraid I can’t do him any harm because you have protected him with your black magic. But his slayer has already been selected.”

      Slayer? Who on earth did this giant think he was? Tengel the Evil was so angry that he was astounded. “Lynx is my right hand ...” was what he managed to say. Then he smirked ingratiatingly. “But of course, you can always replace him!”

      Lucifer’s fascinating